


Ninth Life Of The King

by transgoku



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Found Family, Gen, LGBT+, Morrowind Main Quest, Nerevoryn, a LOT of headcanons and liberties with the source, in this canon we support lesbian almalexia, sad gay cat is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29346300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transgoku/pseuds/transgoku
Summary: Re'nevra Kha'jay was odd even by khajiiti standards; flighty, forgetful, and with a struggle to focus on anything but what he enjoys. However, the strangest part of the ohmes-raht, are the waking dreams of lives that aren’t his. Upon being invited to Cyrodil by a nobleman for his artwork. Meanwhile, his sister Narcisi seeks out a Varmenia cult to help end her brother's plight. However during her investigation Re'nevra is blamed for a crime he did not commit, now on a prison ship bound for Morrowind his latest dream tells him all will be revealed.
Kudos: 4





	Ninth Life Of The King

**Author's Note:**

> First-time fic writer, criticisms are welcome! I tend to ignore parts of the canon and shove my own headcanons into whatever I like. Hope you guys like voryn/nerevar. Also, some locations such as in Elsweyr may be inaccurate since we don’t actually know what most of it looks like.

As the sun crept over the jagged horizon of Mistral, seagulls called out towards their seaport home. A rather rude, annoying way of awakening the feline denizens for the new day. At the peak of dawn, shades of deep navy blue swirled with hues of soft pinks as the last of the night's stars slowly faded into their slumber. Typically it was rare for the khajiiti people to be awake at such times; not due to laziness but more so a natural affinity for the hours of twilight. However, Mistral was different, under an apparent “Imperial rule” (though the Aldmeri Dominion would claim otherwise) if one were to make gold, they were expected to follow the empire's strict shipment schedules. Of course...alternative methods of making a fortune were always available, depending on how willing one was to sell out those in power. 

Miniscule clusters of felines in all shapes and sizes, ranging from a man who looked just like a bosmer, to the massive saber cat-like woman he called his daughter, poured into the wide dirt streets of the market district. Soon the city would buzz with the shouts of vendors offering their goods with the smells of fresh food filling the air, as the sound of chapel bells echoed far in the distance.

In the lower half of the marketplace lay a small shack of what once was the front of a much larger building, nestled underneath a sandstone outcrop that created a natural shade from the harsh sunlight to come. It was hoisted near six feet off the ground by sturdy poles with a single ramp leading to the entrance in an attempt to keep the wild vipers out. The edges of the home were still stained black from permanent scars of a tragedy that refused to be forgotten. Even still it made itself home to the remains of a family too stubborn to leave it all behind. To its side was a small kiln scorched, and stained yet not the cause of the tragedy that claimed the once larger house.

The inside of the shack was cramped and coated in dust with sparse furniture. It was a single room, with two hay stuffed bed rolls shoved into a corner. Against the other side was the home stove and a lightly covered wooden shelf set a few feet away with stale loaves of bread and other long-lasting foods. A single low table sat in the middle of the home acting as both a place for eating and pottery work conducted by the house's owners. Several ornate vases stood out amongst the dreary atmosphere.

Within the building those who called it home were loudly shuffling through their work, having been awake far before anyone else; in fact, the twosome hadn’t slept at all. The eldest of the two was currently sprawled out on the hard stone table. This alfiq had quite large black and gray fur sprawling out in all directions. Her plate-sized fiery eyes were affixed to a round face that was so flat it was as if someone had smacked the feline with a shovel. Large tusk like teeth jutted from a noticeable underbite, making it difficult at times for her to speak. Unbeknownst to outsiders who would be put off by her appearance, Narcisi was all in all considered to be one of the most desirable bachelorettes in all of Mistral. Not that she’d accept any suitor; she was far far too busy in her study thank you very much!

She was very busy watching the man in front of her with great worry. Though from a distance he could easily be mistaken for a dunmer, Renevra was just as much khajiit as his elder sister, no matter what the races of man and mer may think otherwise. Patches of light grey fur, which faded to white covered the ohmes-raht’s limbs in varying thickness. Comically sized pointy ears jutted from a skull painted head, only exaggerating his elven appearance further. Where any fur or the golden vitiligo he despised lacked, he made up for in fine tattoo lines that gave him the appearance of a gray tabby. 

Currently, the ohmes-raht was frantically searching for a drought of stamina, desperate to keep himself awake. He brushed his snowy white hair from haggard golden eyes, looking as if he’d collapse if he even dared to blink.

“Re’nevra… how long has it been since you’ve slept?” his sister asked. Though usually she was amused by her foolish siblings' antics, his ever so frustrating refusal to sleep had been growing even worse in recent years. It had started when he was but a kitten, terrorized shrieks filling the halls of what had once been a manor. Dear mother would be up in the latest hours of the night in an attempt to quell her fear-stricken cub. He would claim dreams of “bad people” who hurt him, how his birthmarks burned when he woke up and how he never wanted to sleep again.

“....Three? Three days? Yeah, three. It’s fine Nar-Nar I just-“

The alfiq’s eyes widened, fur bristling as a look of determination and anger took over. Leaping down from her counter perch, Narcisi jumped into the medicine cabinet her brother was shuffling through and placed a tiny paw on his hand. “Look at me, Nevy. I get it you’re scared but please, you need to sleep. this isn’t healthy.”

Re’nevra forced a weak smile. Eventually, he knew he could weasel his way out of sleep. Not that he was charismatic or anything, at least not in a typical way; he was more of a lying child learning to avoid danger from an angry parent type of charismatic. The khajiit wasn’t actually sure why he was like that. It wasn’t like his parents were abusive; no they were incredibly loving to him. It’s a shame that they'd love someone as terrible and horrible as him. After all, it was his fault they were gone now, but perhaps that was okay?

They’re happy to be away from you, happy to be away from a pathetic little failure like yourself. 

It wasn’t the time to think. Re’nevra didn’t like to think very much as it just made things worse.

“I’ll be fine. Just a l-little… longer” 

Narcisi’s ears flattened against her head, biting her brother's hand as he reached for a bottle. The look she gave was enough to tell Re’nevra that the smaller khajiit she was genuinely concerned for his well being. His mind told him this was true, but he did not think it.

How can you be so pathetic? Can’t you see you’re making her suffer? Just deal with it, coward.

“Fine….fine.” Defeated, the khajiit pulled away from the dusty old shelf, not minding the few insects that scurried away when the bowls were placed back into their place.

“I’ll be sure to wake you up on time for lunch okay? After that, we can go out to the market! Narcisi was sure to save up enough money to buy nice things from the altmer!” The alfiq puffed up with pride at the thought of being able to afford nice aldmeri goods over the more boring imperial imports.

Re’nevra only replied with a quiet nod, dragging his weary body to his bed, he flopped downwards with a loud “oomph”. Heavy eyes attempted one last time to fight against the overwhelming sense of dread that consumed him, but like all things Re’nevra did in his life, it failed.

The following hours were filled with tossing and turning as well as a flurry rush of voices and memories that were not his own. In one moment he dreamed of the life of an argonian fisher, happily showing off his catches in a town that was familiar yet alien all at once. In another he was a redguard pirate, commanding his crew through a mighty storm, and in the last moments of a dreamscape that fluctuated between lucidity and an uncontrollable nightmare he was an altmer. It was always the altmer’s life that had been strangest to Re’nevra. A land he did not know, but was most certainly not the Summerset Isles, yet he appeared to live in luxury with many friends. Re’nevra wished he could have that now, but alas friendships were simply not meant to be for someone like him.

When Re’nevra woke up, he was greeted by the smell of familiar comfort food as he sat up with wide eyes. Narcisi, who had not noticed her brother waking up, was currently using levitation magic to move around pots and pans, in and out of the stove. Typically, she wouldn’t use her skills as a mage when Re’nevra was in the room; but when he was asleep, she would allow her abilities to flourish. Currently, Narcisi kept her eyes on a small pot of fondue to ensure it didn’t burn up, stirring it every so often. 

On the other side of the room, the ohmes-raht’s pupils grew wide as his body wrought with a primordial fear. 

“N… Narcisi?”

The sudden break in the silence caused Narcisi to lose focus on her levitation spell, sending the boiling cheese to clatter to the ground. It was through quick reflexes, she was able to throw up a ward to encase the cheesy explosion in a protective shield. Upon realizing her brother had seen her perform magic, Narcisi’s expression fell into one of deep shame.

“A-ah… Re’nevra. I... I’m sorry. You were asleep, and it’s hard to cook you know… without thumbs. I didn’t think you’d wake up so soon. I… ” Narcisi bit her lip, trying to figure out how to make the situation better. She walked over to Re’nevra, allowing the ward around the fondue pot to dissipate. Sitting down beside her shaking sibling, she nudged him with her head as she purred loudly. Re’nevra sighed quietly, gently running his hands through his sister's fur in an attempt to calm down.

“H-Hey… I know! L-let’s… go out to the Purring Pahmar yeah? Getcha, some of that banana pilaf you like so much.”

Re’nevra didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted to lay in his bed and cry. But crying would make Narcisi sad, and he didn’t like that at all thank you very much. So he stuffed down any emotions he had about himself, or his sister using magic in front of him.

“Okay. I’ll get dressed.” Forcing himself up, Re’nevra grabbed a dull red shendyt with an old pair of sandals and changed behind a shoddy old bamboo screen. Once dressed, Re’nevra stepped out from behind the screen running his claws through his messy mohawk in an attempt to be presentable. Meanwhile, Narcisi tossed a lavender cotton cloak on, careful to smooth out any wrinkles. Upon seeing Re’nevra she smiled wide, he forced a false smile back on his face.

“Oh don’t forget to grab a few of our pieces, who knows! We may make some coin today, hm? I hear some fancy pants noble folk from Cyrodil are visiting soon. Who knows maybe we’ll make some nice noble cash, even luckier we can hound those Aldmeri folk I spoke of earlier, yes?” 

“What happened to us buying from them?” Re’nevra asked, plucking a few of the clean bowls off their shelf.

“Wellllll…” Narcisi paused. She didn’t want to admit that if they were to purchase food from the Purring Pahmar, she wouldn’t be able to afford the elven goods she had previously been excited for. No, she knew better. Re’nevra would merely refuse to eat if he found out.

“Perhaps we can just trade our goods for theirs!” She nodded, agreeing with a very smart quick-witted plan.

“Oh… I’m not sure altmer would like our stuff… but yeah. That could work..”

“Nonsense! You’re an excellent artist, Nevy! Here take that one.” 

She pointed a paw towards a black lekythos vase, intricately decorated in golden paint creating the image of a massive lion. The foot and each end of the vases' braided handles were made in the image of paws, while the lid featured a small cub.

“I-I don’t know, I mean… I get people in town want to buy my plates and the like, but this? Well..what would I even charge for it?”

Ten gold? Maybe? Fifty, no that’s way too much, right? Don’t be so greedy! 

During his own mental berating, he hadn’t noticed his sister had already left. Upon realizing this, he grabs the vase from the table and carefully runs down the rickety ramp leading to the market proper.

The market district of Mistral was a beast all its own. Tight labyrinthine alleyways, mixed with hordes of civilians from all of Tamriel all the more difficult to navigate. Re’nevra who had fortunately grown up in the city knew all the twists and turns to get to wherever he needed to be in a matter of seconds. Turning into a small side street the khajiits face scrunched up, the smell of skooma hitting him in the face. He loathed the stuff, but it was an unfortunate common practice of the less than reputable folk who made these short cuts their homes. Brining a hand to his nose, his dark blue-grey paw pads made a semi-decent barrier to ward off the awful stench.

“Ugh can’t see why anyone would smoke such garbage,” Narcisi hissed, pulling a part of her cloak to her snout.

Re’nevra agreed in silence, following his sister close behind. Finally the two arrived at a more open part of the market district, where several inns and restaurants made their homes. The Purring Pahmar was decently popular, mainly for the poorer folk, or a traveler who needed a cheap bed after a long voyage.

“Finally some clean air, damn renrijs filling the air with that vile drug!” Narcisi snorted, wiping at her snout.

Re’nevra once again stayed silent, but was relieved to be able to breathe. His mind began to wander off as the smell of banana pilaf wafted through the air, using it as a buffer to filter out the obnoxious noises of the market. Re’nevra began tapping his claws against the vast in a rhythmic manner, further assisting in muting outside noises.

“I bet Chiarji will be happy to see us no? It’s been some time, hah what a year now? Hm, perhaps we should get you out more, Nevy.” Narcisi turned, smiling at her brother sweetly.

“Mhm.” Re’nevra half-mumbled, shifting his gaze to the ground he didn’t like looking at people in the eyes.

Narcisi frowned, ears flattening against her head. She knew realistically it would take quite some time for Re’nevra to recover from the magic incident earlier, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t try to make things better.

Once inside the hole in the wall of an inn, Narcisi leapt up on the bar's counter. Though a few elves and men made a face of disgust at the idea of a cat sitting where they eat, it was quickly silenced by the tavern's owner. A broad shouldered, battle scarred pahmar who loomed over even the tallest of altmer stared down at the siblings. She squinted at Re’nevra who had taken a seat without so much as a second glance, nervously fiddling with his thumbs. The tiger tilted her head, before a sudden realization hit her causing her to burst into a deep jovial laughter.

“HAH! WE THOUGHT IT WAS YOU RE’NEVRA!” the tiger woman's voice boomed.

She leaned over the counter, wood creaking at the weight of her muscle to get a better look at the two. Re’nevra made a face, pulling back when Chiarjis’ whiskers brushed up against his face.

“And Narcisi too? Good to see you both getting out of the house!” 

“Er… always a pleasure… Chiarji. Anyways, can we get two or-“ 

“Banana pilaf?” Chiarji interrupted , giving a knowing look.

“Yes.” Narcisi replied, sounding rather annoyed at the older khajiit.

The pahmar clapped her paws together, vanishing into the kitchen behind her. As she disappeared Narcisi walked over to her brother nudging her flat face against his hand. 

“How are you feeling?”

“... Better” Re’nevra said softly, tapping his claw against the counter.

The siblings shared a long silence, Narcisi all to understanding Re’nevra ,didn’t like to talk when he became stressed, still she purred at the fact she had got him to respond. Eventually Chiarji appeared with two plates full of pilaf. Immediately Re’nevra perked up, needle-like pupils dilating wide. Already grabbing a pair of chopsticks, the ohmes-raht quickly dug into his meal.

Wiggling in his seat Re’nevra purred loudly as he ate, tail wagging behind him. The savory-sweet chunks of rice and banana practically melted in his mouth. Re’nevra was careful not to inhale his meal, he wanted to savor the taste as it let him recall a much happier time in his life.

“Well well looks we may get another visit soon hm? We had a feeling little Nevy would enjoy his meal” Chiarji boasted triumphantly, watching Re’nevra down a fresh bottle of cream.

“Thank you Chiarji, may your sands always be warm friend,” Narcisi purred.

In the background a large nord wearing deep blue satin robes walked into the tavern. Golden rings littered each of the man's fat fingers, and a circlet sat nicely on his bald head. He looked around the dusty tavern, carefully examining the denizens looking for something. Chiarji stood at her full height dominating the room, her ears flattened against her head fur bristling making her look even larger.

“Can we assist?” Chiarji asked the approaching man. 

Re’nevra who had finally stopped eating took a moment to look up at the noble. The man easily towered over Re’nevra (which was easy as he barely reached 4’11), yet was but an ant compared to the woman behind them. Narcisi instinctually placed a paw on her brother unsure of the man's intentions. It wasn’t that they hated man or mer, but they had every reason to be wary given the rather tense history the beast folk had with them.

“Ah no need to worry friend!” the nord assured holding up his hands.

“I am but a simple man you see, I’ve made my way from the Imperial City to Mistral for the food! I’ve heard so much about Elsweyr dishes from the local khajiit back home so, hah, thought I’d try it for myself!” 

Chiarji eased up, though her left paw still lay under the counter hovering just above a small axe. Still business was business, so long as the man decided to be on his best behavior. She gave a strained smile, though the nord seemed unable to read the room. He clapped his hands pointing to Re’nevra.

“What is that smell? It’s so sweet, tell you what ma’am I’ll have what he's having!” Without awaiting a response the noble took a seat beside Re’nevra, taking notice of the odd birthmark on his back looking as if it were a large scar. Then he noticed the large black vase on the counter, eyes gleaming at its appearance.

“Say there lad, where did you get that vase there? My wife loves all that artsy stuff you know,” he laughed.

Narcisi perked up, rushing in front of the man she fluffed up her body and grinned wide. 

“Well my friend you see my brother here sculpted it himself! He’s the local potter you know, in fact all the plates you see around here were made by our family! Narcisi Kha’jay a pleasure~” Narcisi looked at her brother urging him to say something, it took Re’nevra a moment to realize what she wanted from him.

“Huh? O oh! R… right. Yes I made it,” Re’nevra’s eyes shifted to the counter.

The nord pauses caught off guard by the fact Narcisi was not a house cat, and she was apparently related to someone who wasn’t a house cat either. He shrugged then clapped again, jewels jangling as he leaned forward his rosy cheeked face in Re’nevra’s. Re’nevra’s ears flattened, tail twitching in anticipation expecting to be injured at any moment.

“Well my boy! How much for it hm? Hows three hundred gold sound?”

Re’nevra and Nacisi both choked at the offer the nobleman had made them, taking a moment to look at each other in disbelief. 

“THREE HUNDRED?! Three hundred gold?” Re’nevra asked, running his a claw through his hair trying to remotely understand the over priced offer.

“Hah! You’re right, you’re right! Is five hundred better?”

“I…” Re’nevra started.

“It’s a deal!” Narcisi interrupted.

“Now what can we call you mister??????”

“Gollar, Gollar Venello of the Imperial City! Now then…” Gollar reached into his pocket grabbing a coin purse he tossed it onto the counter, excitedly grabbing his new vase, making a face at how cool it was to the touch.

“I say, my boy how did you get this vase to stay so cold? Feels like the snow back in Skyrim my friend.” 

Re’nevra sat up, seemingly much happier than before shaking his hands in excitement.

“Oh… well. I painted the inside with a mixture of frost salts and ice wraith teeth. The vase is meant to hold food or drinks, the alchemy ingredients keep the inside cool. It lasts up to a year before it needs repainted!”

“Marvelous! What a fantastic capital idea friend! Say how about I show this here thing off back home huh? Oh I bet people will love it hah! A self freezing container that keeps food cool can you imagine? Hah! Betcha I could get you lots of customers! Tell you what, I'm headed back to Cyrodil tomorrow. Why don’t you two come with me?”

“Well I mean I already get some here, I guess i-“

“We’d love to!” Narcisi interrupted once again.

Re’nevra merely glared at his sister, but did nothing to protest. Whenever she got something in her head she wasn’t one to merely give up.

“Fantastic! My ship leaves at nine tomorrow morning, I can expect to see you both there right?”

“Right…” Re’nevra mumbled, as if he really had a choice in the matter.

“Great, great make sure to look for the big ship with a mermaid on the bow! “ 

Gollar stood up, shaking Re’nevras hand, caught off guard by the fact he had paw pads, Re’nevra was not thrilled about the handshake but again did not protest. Instead he sat there confused, angry and flustered all at the same time as his brain tried to make sense of what just happened. He supposed it didn’t matter in the long run, it would seem like he would have quite the journey ahead of him.


End file.
